


Definition As A State Of Being

by freneticfloetry



Category: Firefly
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-20
Updated: 2010-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-07 10:20:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freneticfloetry/pseuds/freneticfloetry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm Reynolds reflects, and may just emerge unscathed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Definition As A State Of Being

**_gǎn xiǎng_ :: reflection.**

Her name was Daisy, and she was the first girl he'd loved outside of his momma.

She'd come to Shadow looking for work, young and full of life and property of a hand he couldn't recall, and she'd made his days. Whole ranch would wake to the sound of her tearing through the fields, and he'd be the first up and after, trying to catch her where there weren't no hope. But she could settle, time called for it – they'd sit close on the bluff while the suns went down and his home fell to quiet, and even mindful of the goings on, she'd always kept an ear open for him. Loved her before he knew it, still did when the sun hit a ridge just right.

'Course, he'd been just shy of ten and she'd been a herd dog, so he couldn't be sure she counted.

**_bù rén_ :: numb.**

Love got twisted first time he slipped his arms into a brown coat, tainted first time he set foot on battleground. Momma was four worlds away and shrinkin', that dog was long since dead, and love became the cause, the fight, the breath in his lungs and the beat in his brain. The prayer in his heart that was only unanswered if the som'bitch stopped beating.

The day his faith failed him, love became the enemy. He'd been warring with it since.

Couldn't win this one, either.

**_xī_ :: past.**

He'd loved Zoe longest, and with least resistance. Came and went like breathing.

Loved her since before home was a mess of moving parts beneath his boots, before god was just a word. Weren't love that kept you warm and shiny inside, floatin' on atmo – had nothing to do with romance and such nonsense, like she had with Wash. Kissin' Zoe would be like puckering up for Jayne – all manner of wrong and scary to boot. No, was the kind that kept you alive, through stubborn will and a blanket of cover fire. That kept you sane in seas of madness. Love born of trust and bred of honesty, hardest to come by. He'd said it once, part of Niska's gorram train job. In jest.

Words had rolled 'round his mouth like marbles, even then.

**_jīn_ :: present.**

Was all kinds of foolish to love Inara, he knew it better than most. But she spoke to the bit of his brain that made him stupid, and he loved her all the same.

Loved her in pieces, though. The bat of an eye, a quicksilver tongue. He'd always liked a good mystery, and Inara was one big puzzle, with the pieces half missing and no way in the 'verse to solve it. Did good for his ego that he was the one man she paid, 'stead of the other way around. Turnabout seemed to give her a slice of much needed freedom, and gettin' dressed down daily was well worth the price of admission, just to catch a glimpse of the woman she was, behind the painted girl whose life weren't her own. To be frozen by the chill in her tone and watch all her training charred black by the flames in her eyes. Still, couldn't come of nothing in the end. Puzzles lost their mystery once you had all the parts in place, and his time in her life wouldn't go no further than the last day's rent. Love like that, built on fire and ice, ain't built to last.

But while it does, gettin' burned is half the fun.

**_wèi lái_ :: future.**

Kaylee was the one he loved too much. Without reason, and for damn sure not like he should. Could call it protective, downright brotherly… but he'd gotten out of the habit of lying to himself more than a ways back.

His crew had their fair share of battle scars, and he was well this side of thankful most of his mechanic's hurts were due to nothing but a faulty twist of her wrist or slip of his tongue. But most weren't all. Just thinking 'bout the bullet in her belly still made his throat tight and his stomach turn. Didn't know what he'd do if harm ever came to Kaylee couldn't be solved by sewin' the right wound closed or splittin' the right man open. Was just about the last of the fear left in him. Couldn't put his finger on when _mèimei_ became _bâo bèi_, or when he'd stopped just wantin' her around and started needin' her. Little Kaylee, with the sun in her smile and her eyes full of feeling, far from innocent but the only pure thing in his 'verse. It was sacred, spirit like hers. Sacred and special and too rare to taint with the likes of him. But leave it to Kaylee to teach him a lesson in the meantime. He could love her 'til all the stars in the black burned out.

Still left him alone in the dark.

**_ràng bù_ :: concession.**

He didn't linger on it much. Always made him yield in the end, look inevitable in the face, and he wasn't one prone to giving in. Layin' down arms and puttin' his hands in the air brought back memories he'd sooner forget.

Weren't like the good in it was gone. All the love in his life, mottled and doomed as it was, came together to make somethin' worth holding on to. If he thought on it long enough, might even be enough to keep warm at night, when his girls weren't no more than thoughts in a mind too active and blood in a heart too empty. End of the day he was on his own, nothing but him and a boat he loved much as any of 'em. Boat just couldn't return the favor. For the best, he figured. Most days, all he had was more'n enough.

Any luck, tomorrow would be one of those days.


End file.
